


The Spider Crawling on the Ceiling

by Angeltigerdragon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adoption, Fluff and Angst, Superfamily (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:06:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7861141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angeltigerdragon/pseuds/Angeltigerdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The road to having a child is paved in difficulty for our heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homecoming

Tony and Steve waited for the elevator doors to ping and JARVIS to welcome them back. Steve glanced at his husband of five years and grimaced slightly at the pallid sheen to Tony’s skin. It was no one’s fault that their journey was fruitless, however, to Tony, blaming that poor worker and the woman who ran the orphanage did seem appropriate. But, after ten hours in jet, Steve could see the past weeks take a toll on his husband.  
Slowly, Steve reached out to grip Tony’s hand gently. The lack of response was a bit disconcerting. Tony levelled his gaze, which was burning the floor, to Steve’s eyes.  
“Hey,” Steve said.  
Tony breathed. He pulled the hand closer to him and Steve embraced the smaller man. Tony shook in his hold, but otherwise nothing happened. Their floor was arriving soon, so Steve pulled Tony a bit to maneuver both of them out of the elevator. At the penthouse level, they entered the dark room and stopped abruptly. Steve reached for his M9 while Tony call sent a signal to his Iron Man suit.  
The sudden light and shouts of “SURPRISE!” completely threw the men off their game.  
Natasha Romanov stood in the center, a real smile on her face. Clint Barton and family were holding a three tiered cake that was yellow and covered in Mandarin symbols. Bruce, Maria Hill, Pepper Potts, and Happy were off to the side where a buffet laden with victuals and presents lay. Even Director Fury, who mad it adamant not to show up in personal affairs, leaned against the windows, Phil Coulson awkwardly standing next to him with a brightly decorated Captain America gift bag.

“Hello…eh..hello everyone,” Steve stuttered.  
Tony’s skin was paler somehow. Steve bit his bottom lip, hoping another fight would not break in their living room. Tony stared at all assembled and the giant banner hanging over the table, which read ‘Welcome to Our Crazy Family, the Kid Stark-Rogers’, and promptly walked away.

* * *

  
Waking up in the ice, Steve had no clue what this new world would bring. He thought maybe it would be like how those newsreels speculated: flying cars, end of all struggles, and peace. He was dead wrong.  
Was there more tolerance? Yes, but like everything it came with the price of ideology versus prejudice. So, Steve entered a world where information was at your fingertips, cars were made of plastic, music and movies had taken a vulgar turn (in some cases), and his orientation was not disgusted or branded as evil. It was not a bad time to wake up in; especially upon meeting Howard Stark’s son, Tony Stark.  
Steve stared at the (finally) asleep Tony. He was fidgeting a lot so it was not restful. Tony did not return to the welcome party, which left Steve to explain everything. He did not mind because he knew this was harder on Tony than the man admitted. Steve fiddled with the tie to his robe and sighed. He wanted so desperately to crawl in next to his lovely husband. However, the last few attempts led to Tony waking and sobbing anew. So, Steve sat on the love seat in their large room and watched Tony fidget.  
With nothing to do, the evening’s talk came back to Steve.  
_The group was stunned for as long as possible, until Natasha spoke up._  
_“Where’s your baby?”_  
_Steve swallowed hard and gave her a desecrated smile. Pepper seemed to know it and she gasped. Clint and his wife put the cake on the buffet and quietly herded their son and baby girl out of Stark Tower. Steve breathed in and opened his mouth when Coulson said, “I’m sorry, I-I tried to warn you.”_  
_Fury had the decency to be reticent._  
_“I know you did, Coulson…but we still needed to try. Oh, hell, we went to India after hearing about the orphanage! They still wouldn’t let us near the kids!” Steve shouted. He breathed._  
_“Why?” Maria asked. Unlike the rest she seemed the most perplexed._  
_Steve laughed. It was hollow, cold and most unpleasant._  
_“The social workers and agencies have all put it plain and simple: too high-risk. Nothing to do with Tony and me being married. Not because of his history. And not because I’m fucking,” everyone reacted to that in various ways, “in my nineties, no. Tony and I, or Iron Man and Captain America are too much of a danger for any adoption agency, here to China and India, to associate with if the child—”_  
_Steve looks at Natasha who is holding his arm. He sees the white of his knuckles and the veins in his arm. He breathes again and relaxes his muscle._  
_“If the child were to be hurt, in anyway.”_  
A snore from the bed brings Steve back. Tony has calmed a bit in his sleep. He no longer fidgets and Steve stands from the chair to kneel in front of his husband. Tony’s face is most serene when he gets like this; dead in slumber with no cares for the bright sun. Steve loves to get these glimpses of the billionaire when he is unaware. It reminds Steve of those training days in the bunkers, where the sound of his troop helped him relax.  
He caresses Tony’s face and smiles at only getting a hum. Steve gets on his side and gently spoons Tony.  
The last few weeks were heartbreaking and left an emptiness for the two men. The time now, as Steve’s eyes go heavy, is to sleep in, dismantle the room across the hall, return the gifts, and carry on.

 


	2. Going On

“How long are you gone for?” Tony asked.

“Until SHIELD can let me go. Barton had it easy since his girl’s been born but they’ve been calling for security again. So, yeah. Not sure.” Steve zips up his duffel and smiles at Tony. Although, Steve has an apartment in D.C., he barely keeps it stocked, so each trip he carries his duffel full of homey things. Pictures, sewing kit, favorite boots, and others fit for the time he is away.

Tony lies against the headboard of their bed smirking. Steve ignores him, even as the man begins to crawl toward him. Tony lies adjacent to the duffel and Steve grins. He grabs Tony to lift him off the bed and places him in the duffel right on the boots. Tony laughs breathlessly and anchors himself by holding onto Steve’s chest.

                “One day,” says Steve, “I will fit you in this thing.”

                “Cap, that involves way too much stretching even YOU will be uncomfortable with. Plus, I think our bed can’t handle another rebuild.”

Steve blushes immediately and Tony’s grin reminds him of when Happy had heard the crack in the room and came running. He fainted on the spot and had to have a nice, long vacation to Canada. Steve swats at Tony’s hand, which are rubbing his pectorals in his distraction.

Tony pouts and it would work better without his goatee Steve thinks. He smiles, leans in and kisses Tony. The kiss quickly turns to moaning and more groping. Steve loves how Tony is confident in all he is and does. Before, Steve would worry about emasculating his lover, but Tony made it clear the pants were worn by both. “Just sometimes mine are bigger,” he said cheekily and earned a swat on the butt.

Thinking of that, Steve grins into the kiss and pats Tony’s ass lightly. No response. He smirks and spanks the smaller man. Tony yelps in surprise. He tackles Steve and they fall to the floor.

The phone rings and the jovial mood is broken. It’s the SHIELD phone. Steve takes it out of his pocket.

                “Yeah…I am…No, it’s fine…Sure.”

                “Fury calls,” Tony says dryly.

Steve nods. “I will be back soon.”

                “You will be back,”Tony says. He gets off the floor and back on the bed. “It’s just not soon enough,” Tony whispers. Steve hears in the quiet as he stands.

It is still night, well early morning. Tony’s sleep has gotten worse and Steve just does not know what to do. His usually unshaken husband passes by the empty room across from them and spends minutes staring at the door. Steve has even caught him in there.

They did not have the stomachs to go in and take down everything. Tony would be in the room, collared a nice eggshell with ducks and ponds. The crib and small bed were unused. He sat in the rocking chair Steve had insisted on building. Toy sets, stuffed animals, and unopened presents lay in a corner where the blue curtains open to show the same view as the living room; the New York sky.

Tony was turned on his side facing away from Steve. He made to go to him, but his phone rings again.

                “I’ll be back,” he says leaving.

* * *

 

The morning light is just rising as Steve gets out of his apartment. Turns out they didn’t need him for the briefing yet, as some of the team was still away. Steve let Hill know how he felt about that, and she said to pass along to Fury.

Steve starts his run. He enjoys this time to himself. A tranquil exhaust from the roiling storm in his mind. Tony’s small frame comes back. He is broken more than what he says. Steve sees it and it haunts him. He tries not to think of the little girl who was in the supermarket as he runs past another man.

“On your left.”

* * *

 

Light. That is how Steve describes the feeling to this stranger. He has run ahead of him all morning, and now here he is, panting under a tree.

                “Need a medic,” Steve chokes.

The man laughs good-naturedly.

                “I need a new set of lung. Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes.”

                “Guess, I got a late start,“ Steve quips.

The man quips back. He likes the man. Steve recognizes the soldier in him and is impressed to find out he was meant to rescue and not fight and to be involved in helping those cope.

                “Sam Wilson,” the man greets.

                “Steve Rogers,” he says helping him up.

Steve likes him more when he just nods and tells him about how he should check out Marvin Gaye.

                “I guess you’ve gotten used to all this,” Sam gestures.

                “No, it’s still a bit…odd.”

                “Guess so. Being unfrozen had to been tough first,” Sam says. He is not prying, just talking while he stretches.

                “I don’t remember,” Steve says. “But, I can say forty years of history and culture still take some getting used to out here.”

                “Yeah,” Sam scratches his head. “It’s the bed.”

Steve looks at Sam.

                “When I was over there I slept on rocks and pits. Here, my bed’s too soft.”

                “Yeah, it can feel like a marshmallow...” Steve trails off. He says, without realizing, “But it’s not just you in there. The other person is the one that seems foreign…”

                “Mmh,” Sam says.

Steve about to speak when Natasha rolls up. He looks at Sam and quickly writes down his number and rips out a page of his booklet.

On the way to SHIELD, Natasha, for all her stealth is tense. Steve can tell. He knows what is on everyone’s mind despite the missions. He can see it in Fury’s one eye too after they are debriefed.

In the plane setting out, the team jokes and poke at the pilot, who has a picture of him at his kids birthday. Steve breathes and concentrates on the rattling of the weapons and tools in the hangar.

                “You and Tony do anything fun Saturday night?” Natasha asks.

                “If you count watching reruns of _I Love Lucy_ and _Hazel_ then yes.”

Natasha nods. Steve was told later she was the one to arrange the party. He’s not sure how to take that; instead, he smiles and nudges her.

                “I made a new friend today.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

                “Tony?” Steve said.

Tony grunted and pulled the covers up. It was some time since that damned party, and he was in no mood for what he dubbed “Steve’s Night Show” where he was the guest, audience, and band. Steve had the uncanny ability to know when Tony was conscious at night and now Tony wished he did not. He wanted an oblivion, not the pitying look his husband gave him when he passed the would-be-child’s room. Tony made a whining noise at that thought.

                “Tony, honey, look at me,” Steve says and pulls Tony to his chest. Tony allows if only to feel cocooned in some kind of space.

                Steve rubs circles in this back and hums “Itsy Bitsy Spider”, “Mary Quite Contrary,” and other nursery rhymes as Tony breathes to control his composure. He wants to desperately throw away all that shit in the room across the hall, but he cannot. He goes in there to pretend. He goes in there because it’s the only place he feels some closure because logically he knows that little bed will never be used and those toys never opened. Not one fucking agency will give them the time of day anymore and when China will not give you a baby, you’re screwed.

By “London Bridge is Falling Down” Tony gathers himself and glances at Steve, who grins.

                “Let’s make a kid.”

Tony huffed, and stared at his husband.

                “Capsicle, medical science has done wonders in advancing and preventing birth, but we’re still missing the equipment for that. Also, I doubt my dad had the forethought to freeze his…junk in case he wanted more kids…” Tony trails off. He is both disgusted by the thought and wonders if he needs to look through his dad’s old encrypted files. Maybe there was a plan B incase plan A kid fucked up so much.

Steve chuckles and Tony comes back, seeing the bright watt smile of his perfect husband.

                “I know that, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make one.”

Tony is still confused until Steve brings over an old cigar box and his stencil set with a sketch pad.

                “This isn’t funny, Steve,” Tony warns.

Steve nods.   
                “No, but our kid will be.”

He flops down and writes it down on a page, and then rips it out.

                “Actually, if he takes after you, he’ll be snarky.”

He crumbles the first paper and writes ‘snarky’ on the next one.

                “If he’s anything like you,” Tony retorts, “he’ll be a goody goody with no sense of fun and rule breaking.”

They go on like this. Back and forth. Steve wants him to have Tony’s genius. Tony wants his heart to be as big as Steve’s. They both agree for him to love books because all Tony reads is reports, contracts, and the occasional trashy novel, (cough, teen romance, cough) and Steve reads news and history, sometimes non-fiction.  The last thing they do is agree on what he looks like.

                “I’d want him to have your eyes,” Steve says warmly.

Tony blushes, and denies it, as he looks at Steve’s strong Irish features.

                “Yeah, and your nose,” he says quietly.

Steve nods as he lines the contours of the face. Tony can’t help but notice how he incorporates aspects of each of them.

                “I wouldn’t want him to have my hair,” Steve confesses.

                “Kids call you Blondie Locks.”

Steve hums.

                “My hair’s always been dark,” Tony says. “It’s nice, but I think a lighter shade would be better.”

Steve continues to draw and takes some of his colored pencils out. He does the eyes first. He moves onto the skin. A nice pink shade with enough rosy cheeks. Tony would laugh if he swore his arc reactor was not breaking. The next step is the hair. Tony watches as Steve places three colors in there: red, gold, some black, and a light brown that is called chestnut.

The result is amazing. Right in front of Tony is their kid. He has his eyes, Steve’s nose and lips. The rest is a mix of the two and the hair is wavy, almost fluffy, with how it hangs past the face’s little ears. The child is maybe six.

                “Steve…”

                “We’re going to put him in here,” Steve says.

The papers and the picture are placed neatly in the cigar box. Steve closes it and tapes the lid shut.

* * *

 

Tony’s knuckles are white as he looks down on his seat. Rhodes is standing next to him as they watch the news on how SHIELD has been destroyed. For a while, Tony has to lay low in his Monaco suite. He would rather grab his suit and fly over to see if his husband is alive, but the bastard begged him to get out of the country until he can reach him again. Agent…Coulson is there too, an actual loyal SHIELD agent, watching the screen as Pepper texts on her StarkPhone.

Coulson is almost in tears (as much as can show on his face) when the later reports come in from all of SHIELD/HYDRA confidential records. He does break when he learns how he survived being stabbed by Loki.

Rhodes and Pepper comfort to their best, but Tony knows Coulson will be consumed by this for the future.

The jet lands and they depart. Tony holes himself in the suite and takes out Steve’s pillow. He needs some grounding and alcohol is too readily served here.

Later, after nights of waiting for some response and snapping Coulson out of his stupor, Tony recalls what he and Steve made a few days before leaving on that damned mission.

He never knew where Tony hid the box and wonders if he did not just trash it. Tony would have.

* * *

 

The races are happening and Tony decides to finally leave his suite and make some people lose their money. He counts the cards and figures a way to load the dice and by the end of it has won Hammer’s race car (junk) and some of his franchises (need some work, half of them owned by some unsavory types) and a few bragging rights.

Tony sees Pepper talking to Happy at the bar. The two are close and laughing. His mood lurches down.

Coulson is outside watching the races with Rhodes commenting on everything. Tony sits with them and as the engines roar and cause taenites, he realizes how quiet it is out here than inside.

It does not last.

He remembers one of the last conversations he had before Steve went rogue.

                _“Tony,” Steve said, drained. “I saw someone. I thought he was dead. I-I…he fell off a train in the middle of the mountains. But it was him.”_

_He was silent for a few minutes and then, “Tony…the other day at the grocer—I want a child so bad. There was a little girl. She had light brown and brown eyes….Oh dear Heaven, I could have taken her. She was alone with me….I…I was thinking of that picture I drew. Her mother came, but Tony, dammit, Tony it was so easy to imagine taking her back home….”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if anyone can tell I paraphrased the scene from "The Odd Life of Timothy Green" because I actually think Cap would do that to try and alleviate some of the tension and pain. Also, no Peter is not kidnapped by anyone, it just occurred to me in writing this that it would be easy for Tony and Steve to take a child and change his records to look like they had adopted it, especially a toddler. And thank you for all the Kudos!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was wondering, how would you feel if in later chapters I added the relationships of all the Avengers p.o.v?

Whiplash.

That’s original. Tony dodge’s the villain’s whips in the narrow space of the racetrack and watches as reporters (idiots!) standby to document the newest battle brought on by heroes. Tony would love to tell them where to shove it, but he’s about to get smacked in the faceplate.

Luckily, the other racers have abandoned the track before anymore unnecessary fireworks that explode.

The two duke it out and Iron Man contemplates just taking a shot at the asshole’s uncovered face, but that be unfair and deadly. He takes aim for the legs and suddenly a _thwack_ against his repulsor and it’s out. Iron Man aims again with another _thwack_ from the glowing, electrical whips.

During the confusion, Whiplash wraps Iron Man in his coils. Iron Man is tossed around like a flour sack. In desperation, he’s about to just use both at once when a car runs right into the villain.

He collapses and Pepper opens the door and screams at Tony to get in.

Hours later, and thanks to Rhodes and Coulson, they have confiscated the man, Ivan Vanko, and his equipment. Against the wishes of everyone, Tony questions Vanko.

                “What did you think would happen?” he asks.

Vanko smiles, the happy lines giving him a kind of Tim Burton-Jim Carrey Grinch-look, and chuckles.

                “I don’t think you get it. You’re about to be processed and possibly sent to Siberia. Pretty sure it’s still done. So, either speak to me, in English, or just sit there like some juiced up marionette,” Tony says glaring at the man.

                “Not so much,” Vanko says in his garbled voice. He leans in not flinching when the chains pull him back in the chair. “Your father was more and your husband a beacon, but you are not much.”

Tony tenses. Pepper’s there to grab his arm and gently pull him back. When Vanko opens his mouth next, it is a wonder Tony did not do too much damage.

                “I suppose being the Keptin’s plaything is worth something.”

* * *

 

Tony regrets nothing. He was in his right to lift the chair and hit Vanko’s head in; it would have killed if it was not wood. Vanko’s in a coma and Tony is locked in the jet. Pepper decided it would be in the party’s best interests to retreat to a remote place till the tension cools.

Tony knows she’s just trying to keep it together. For him, because he is not together. It has been three weeks since he heard from Steve and Coulson (the little bastard) will not give him anything. After countless code breaks and boosting up JARVIS from the hotel’s computer, he still cannot break Coulson’s phone.

They have heard about the others.

Bruce is hiding somewhere in the Rockies.

Thor is back in Asgard for Asgard things.

Black Widow and Hawkeye are doing everything they can to help fix this mess.

He thinks of what was found out in those SHIELD records. Yeah, it was good to inform the public of all the wrongs (known) but it also ratted out Barton’s family, who Tony quickly relocated before he left. Nick Fury’s death was still sore when mentioned. Tony saw that in Coulson.

Tony drinks some light beer as Rhodes tries to come up with good places to hide out. He obviously does not know of most and just says the most exotic words that come to mind: Xanadu, Timbuktu, and Cayman Islands. Tony slumps in the leather chair and sips his…Heineken. It’s a green bottle and tastes like horse piss even without being light in alcohol to blood level. Eventually the jet leaves the airport and Tony just let it slide.

He falls asleep at some point and dreams of caves, dying hearts, and then a burly man lifting him up and into his arms.

* * *

 

The Malibu house has not been used since Tony became Iron Man. Although, it has special memories i.e. his whole bachelorhood before settling, he makes a beeline for the master bedroom. Different sheets, empty drawers, and the bathroom’s been updated, but still Tony is caught breathless in here. This is where he and Steve made love and confessed it.

Tony lies on the mattress and inhales. It is ridiculous, but he pretends he can smell Steve.

He notices his shakes after being told dinner is ready by Rhodes.

Rhodes who sits down on the bed, facing away from Tony.

                “Cap’s in deep shit,” he begins. “Romanov’s trying to get him in the light again, but the feds want him prosecuted and the CIA wants what’s in him. There was a conference today where Romanov flipped them and showed them you don’t mess with Captain America or his friends.” Rhodes chuckles quietly.

Tony turns to face his first best friend’s back. “Who was on the bridge?”

Rhodes freezes. He faces Tony and Tony knows he must look as pathetic as he sounds because a great sadness comes to the pilot’s eyes.

                “The Winter Soldier,” he answers. Tony waits a beat. “And James Buchanan Barnes.”

* * *

 

Eating donuts and Irish coffee at six in the morning used to be a norm for Tony Stark. Now, Iron Man is reduced to running away from those watchful eyes and sitting on a Randy’s Donuts sign just to get some piece and fatty pastries. He looks at the surroundings and is grateful this shop had drive-thru service. Tony shoves another cream filled glaze in his mouth.

He thinks it’s the time to get fat. Who cares about his looks now?

Of course, that’s when the dead Fury comes out of nowhere.

                “Stark, I’m gonna have to ask to exit the donut,” he shouts.

And Tony, because he does not fucking care retorts, “Sorry, but the only one allowed in my donut is Steve fucking Stark-Rogers.”

Fury sighs and enters the restaurant. Tony follows because a dead man is talking to him.

                “Where’s Steve? And don’t give me some bullshit about him doing covert because that doesn’t fly Fury. Where the fuck is MY HUSBAND?” he yells and throws his Iron Man helmet at Fury’s impossibly bald (shaven?) head.

Natasha, as she is known, springs out of the shadows and catches said helmet. Tony collapses in the booth, his armor slight enough for mobility and waits for the next move.

                “I came as an act of magnanimous gesture, Stark, but you will not make me regret it,” Fury says in his so scary voice. He pulls out an unregistered phone and Tony snatches it. “From the Cap. He said he’ll call when he’s sure he and Sam are safe enough. Also, that he’s sorry he missed your birthday.”

                “Rhodes and I fought to Goldstein’s rad DJ mix. I think it tops when we tried to roast a pig and it exploded the kitchen,” Tony says. He stares at the phone and wills Steve to call him now.

                “I heard. Hawkeye bet Rhodes would kick your ass. You lost me ten bucks.”

If Tony were listening, he would have been shocked to see Fury try humor. Instead, he sighs and places the phone in his suit, as a precious metal.

                “What else?”

                “Nothing really,” Fury says. “Like I said, this was just out of the kindness of my own heart.”

He pauses. Tony knows there is more and he notices Natasha has disappeared but left his helmet on the unoccupied counter.

                “About your….child situation,” Fury is obviously uncomfortable. Tony would laugh, if he did not feel his arc reactor pounding his chest. “There are state of the line insemination programs and Rogers is the healthiest of you two. I know your history and I may not be best—”

Tony sobs on the table. He presses the command for the suit to come off and transform in a briefcase and openly sobs. He cannot do it. Not here, not without Steve. Fury backs in the booth and calls Natasha in. She stands in the doorway and stares, frightened.

Tony calms after a few minutes. He looks at Fury.

                “We can’t-can’t…Steve is-s sterile and…” Tony stops to blow his nose and drink some water that has appeared. “I was young and this….bitch said she was pregnant because of me. I did everything I knew was right in that scenario…but it wasn’t mine. I’ve been cut since I was 23, you dick.”

Fury stares at him, now waiting for more.

                “I had some stored up, but you know how every battle we have, buildings get knocked off first. And how people are always mad at us afterwards. It’s because there’s important stuff in them and they’re irreplaceable. Well, the one—” Tony grabs his heads to laugh bitterly. “The one housing my junk and others was destroyed.”

Fury gets up. “We’ll give you a ride home.”

* * *

 

Tony gets a call late at night. He presses the phone to his ear and he wants to scream bloody murder at Steve.

                “Tony…” Steve says so softly.

They sob and brandish each other with all their pain and loneliness. Tony falls asleep to Steve’s singing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's here! Happy times are coming.

Six months is the final straw.

Tony grabs all his loot and tech, a portable JARVIS, a virus to keep Pepper out, and the last known location of his husband.

It takes four days.

Steve’s face is gaunt (as it can get) and his partner is faring no better. They have been hiding out in Canada, near where Bruce Banner used to be.

Tony opens his face plate and says, “I don’t care what the fuck you’re doing. You’re coming home, Steve.”

The soldier nods and walks to Tony.

                “No. Stop, I’m pissed with you….”

Steve embraces Tony and the man cries into his shoulder.

* * *

 

They spend the next several months doing PR recon and getting the public to favor not only Steve, but Natasha too. Barton has been around for a few days, but he never leaves his family for long now.

The two find out later that Clint is filing for divorce.

When they ask, Barton’s reply is calm.

                “I can’t be there like this. My kids need a dad,” Barton says. “Laura doesn’t want it. I don’t want it, but it has to be done. My life is here,” he says while gesturing to the people around them. The remnants of SHIELD on leave. Tony had offered his house for a place to rest. “That’s not right. Not for them.”

                “You’re just gonna give up,” Steve practically snarls.

                “If you couldn’t separate this life from the one you want, wouldn’t you? Cause, soldier, you’ll be causing more harm than doing good.”

Steve is silent. Tony goes to bed that night sobbing.

* * *

 

                “Did you love him?” Tony accuses.

They had been going in circles for hours.

                “Maybe,” Steve admits. “I felt something for him. Bucky was…is my best friend. I’m the reason he was there. I’m the one who didn’t catch him in time. Tony—”

                “Do you love?!” Tony bolts off the bed. “I am just the fucking second rate prize you got. Just the silly rich boy who had a crush on you. Have you pitied me all this time, Steve? And now Bucky’s back and you need **him**. What am I now? The little wifey who grins and bares her husband’s sudden change in heart. Well, screw you Steve! I can have anyone. Any bimbo would want my money and name. And I can at least count on them to never leave me.”

Tony stopped and panted. He was out of breath.

Steve’s knuckles were white and he felt the crescent pools of blood from his fingernails digging into his palms.

                “You’re wrong,” Steve says. “I thought,….I wanted to have it all back. Peggy, Bucky, a house, a child. Those things that all people strive for, Tony.”

Tony stepped closer to Steve. He grabbed his husband’s hands and smoothed them out.

They both hissed at the scarring and blood.

                “You are the only thing I need and if I don’t have you then….dammit, Tony. I love you. I can’t lose you. Yes, seeing him again made me think I could bring my best friend back. I don’t pity you. I hate that I was the only who saw you. I wish you had someone else—”

                “Don’t say that,” Tony whimpers.

                “It’s true. You deserve better than some PTSD damaged old man. And Tony, you are my husband and the man I promised forever. Bucky was none of that and he’s gone.”

Tony pretends to not understand the last part.

Steve hopes he never asks him to explain.

* * *

 

Normalcy returns to the Stark-Rogers household.

Tony returns to his labs and various projects.

Steve is off work for the foreseeable future and likes it so far. He takes up cooking again and even gets into Eastern Asian recipes. He works out, hangs out when Sam is in town and Natasha has moved into the tower.

Thor returns, but he stays with Jane Foster.

Clint Barton is busy with his divorce. Steve prays for the best. Preferably, he wants Clint to stay with his family, but he knows he cannot make that decision. Instead, he hopes Clint will accept joint custody of his children instead of their mother having full access. Kids need a dad.

* * *

 

Jogging in New York City is not a fun experience. Too many cars and people crowding the streets; the parks are not any better. Others run early in the mornings and the traffic flow with the bikes can be hectic. But, like today, Steve can run in the streets of New York and feel the rhythm of the city.

No direction, no time.

He finds himself outside of Manhattan by 8am. Steve started running at 4. He texts Tony and knows the message will not be read for another hour or two. Tony had come up to bed at 4.

Steve gets on the subway to Queens. He remembers a bakery that’s been there since 1910 and decides to surprise Tony with real buttermilk doughnuts.

He gets off at his stop, thankfully no one’s recognized him, and runs the last few miles to the bakery.

Steve stops when passing the last alley. A noise erupts again from the garbage and Steve readies himself. He goes in slowly in defensive stance and surveys the hiding spots.

The bang does not startle him. What does is the little boy who crawls out of the garbage can, holding a half-eaten loaf.

                “Don’t do that!”

The boy glances at Steve. He cannot be older than five; he is dirty, malnourished, and too small.

Steve gasps and thinks the child to be some angel. The boy’s features match the drawing. Brown hair and eyes. Little ears and pink cheeks. Steve walks toward the boy cautiously. The boy simply climbs out. He does not move or flinch from Steve who crouches down.

                “I’m Captain America,” Steve says. “I won’t hurt you.”

* * *

 

Steve controls his breathing. The house is a wreck. The woman, May Parker, reminds of the war widows he knew in his childhood and later in his war. She cannot answer his questions without much prompting. May drifts off in speech and slurs her words.

From what Steve can gather, she is the lawful aunt to the boy-Peter Parker-and her husband, the father’s brother, died three months ago in a mugging, which Peter was present for; Steve stares at the little boy and wants to hold him.

Peter grabs a clean glass for May and one for Steve. He ever led the soldier to this address. Not a word has uttered from this boy.

                “He’s reticent, I know,” May says, clear for once. “He hasn’t spoken since he was brought here. The doctor said it was trauma, but you know they’re never right. Peter knows more than us,” she stops.

                “I think kids can see more,” Steve says. He is not sure why, but he looks at Peter. The boy is eating the sweet rolls he got him. He smiles at Steve and it breaks the soldier’s heart because the smile is a weak one that means he is used to this.

May speaks again, “I have a wonderful idea. Why not take Peter with you?”

                “Ma’am,” Steve says.

                “Well, it just so happens I have some business to attend to and I think Peter would be happiest with a friend than any old sitter I hire,” she says and gets up, the most Steve has seen her move.

* * *

 

He tried to argue, to reason with the old lady, and explain he’s just a stranger.

May shoved a small backpack at him with a blanket and a briefcase.

Steve glances at Peter who sits next to him in the cab.

_ Are u still getting me donuts? ;) _

_ Yeah. I got something else too _

_ Oooo, it better be sexy _

_ It’s beautiful _

8888888888

To say Tony is surprised is an understatement. To say he’s about to break down again is accurate.

He will not have a child he cannot keep in his home.

Peter smiles wanly at him and those eyes, soft and sleepy, make Tony want to vomit.

Steve leads the boy to one of the guest rooms and Tony waits.

                “What the hell, Steve?”

                “I know, okay. I didn’t mean for this to happen, but please just listen to me,” he says.

Steve relays the story of the woman and where he found Peter. Tony does not argue because he could smell the kid. They sit on the couch facing the wall.

                “The cigar box?”

                “I had it with me in D.C. I lost it after the apartment was raided and I guess it’s gone.”

                “The picture was really nice,” Tony says.

                “Tony, we—”

                “He can stay, but don’t get attached. The aunt’s going to want him back and the system won’t take him away from this only blood relative. I’m going to remain in the labs and office until he returns to her and don’t,” he stares hard at Steve. “Don’t you try to say this is a sign or some fucked up destiny shit. I refuse to believe that. I can’t take it again Steve,” Tony cries at the end.

Steve gets up and grabs Tony.

                “I’ll try. I can’t promise anything, but we can pretend. For a while.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is not the end of this universe, but I still have not figured out how to do collections right on this thing. I will be writing more for the story, including Peter becoming Spider-Man. I may or may not ax the X-Men from this verse because I am not sure how to fit them yet. I haven't made a final decision yet. Also, for those of you who don't know who Sterling Holloway is, listen to some narrated Disney cartoons from the forties and fifties like "Little Blue Coup"  
> (Got it the chapter fixed)

JARVIS monitors the situation for the next few days. The AI given specific instructions to not startle the fragile boy. He cannot say he has mixed feelings because he cannot feel….as humans do. What JARVIS does is closely keep Master Tony’s schedule in order: when it’s time to eat, warnings of Steve coming down, and the boy’s condition.

JARVIS has yet to comprehend with this new addition. The boy does not exhibit most normal behaviors of one his age. In fact, for a child he is quite well-mannered. He stays close to Master Steve. They draw together and it is discovered that he can write. This helps when it becomes apparent he will not be communicating verbally soon.

                “Asks me whatever you want,” Master Steve says.

                HOW OLD ARE YOU?

                “I feel 29, but I’m in my eighties.”

                ARE YOU MARRIED?

                “Yes. Tony’s my husband. Does,…does that bother you?”

                NO.

                WHERE IS TONY?

                “Down in his workshop or the labs.”

                DO YOU LIKE ROBOTS?

                “The ones on T.V. and movies. In real life, they can get really scary.”

                WHAT DO YOU DO?

                “I kinda don’t have a job now, which is fine.”

                FIRED?

                “Let’s go with that.”

                IS TONY A SCIENTIST?

                “Yes. More of an engineer, but yes he knows science.”

                I LIKE SCIENCE AND ROBOTS AND MONSTERS AND WINNIE THE POOH AND MANY BOOKS AND PEARS—

The boy stops to write on another piece of paper.

                I LIKE THE PARK AND I WANT TO TRY ~~SCATE~~ SKATE BOARDING AND I LIKE CHEESE STICKS. DO YOU HAVE CHEESE STICKS?

Master Steve smiled broadly and says, “I think we have some in the freeze box. Come on.”

JARVIS, as every day, relays the footage to Master Tony who stares at his 3D scans, from yesterday, and watches the interaction.

Sir, I believe if you spoke to the boy, you might find out more. 

                “Shut up, JARVIS,” Master Tony says. It loses its intended vitriol when he also smiles at the long note.

JARVIS has no feelings, but the AI has a plan.

* * *

 

Steve reads to Peter at night. Nothing a child would like, just some funnies from the paper. He noticed how Peter clings to him and as much as he wants, he has to make sure Peter stays in the guest room; although he does not blame the kid for wanting to join Steve in his room.

 _But it would be nice to have someone there_ , he thought.

The guest room is modern and efficient with navy sheets, curtains, bath towels, and toilet. It is also bare and devoid of anything. The room is more for when someone passes out in the living room after-parties.

Steve sighs heavily and looks down at the small child curled next to him.

                “I wish you could stay,” he whispers.

 Steve left his business card with her; May Parker calls every day to talk to Peter

* * *

 

JARVIS constructs the image of a cartoon bear. The AI erases it immediately reconfiguring the sketch artist’s rendering of the beloved classic. He erases it again. JARVIS settles for a medium between the two: the sketchy design of the character with a softer tone to its line, imitating plushy fur.

Data research is easier with the 1977 film and the 1991 television series. JARVIS uploads the mannerisms and simulated voice into the hologram for the boy. The book is downloaded into the AI’s internal drive and he adds some of the original dialect into the bear.

Finished, JARVIS sends Winnie-the-Pooh in Peter’s room.

The boy is awake again. He has not slept well for the time he has been here. Master Steve must know, which is why he stays with Peter until he first falls asleep. JARVIS has yet to decipher why the boy does not go to him.

                “Hullo, there,” the hologram says.

Peter jumps, quietly, and hides under the covers.

                “Oh, bother,” Pooh says. “Hmm, think. Think, think…oh, don’t be scared. It’s just old Pooh-bear. And I am certainly not a woozle or hufflelump. Now, please come out.”

The lump in the bed crawls out. Peter watches the hologram giggle.

                “Come out. There’s a secret place you’ll want to see.”

* * *

 

Tony reworked the schematics for the Mark V. He still needed to completely chuck out the old carrying protocols for Steve. He could come up with boot straps for the feet and they’d tack on to the signal tracers in Steve’s combat boots. And maybe some handles…no that’d look moronic.

Tony huffed and rubbed his hair back. He was so tired. He hadn’t been to bed in days, too afraid of finding that kid cuddling to Steve. He didn’t hate the kid. Watching the two interact for the past few days was akin to torture. The boy was so sweet and his smile was brighter.

No, what Tony did not want was to fall for him too, like Steve.

He could see how torn Steve was when the Aunt called. He would smile as they (Aunt May) spoke, but Tony saw the terseness in those baby blues he loved so much.

This kid could be taken away any day. It was not the state would give two superhero husbands a boy who had a blood (marriage) related legal guardian.

His workshop door opened with Sterling Holloway’s voice.

                “Ah, there’s the robbit,” the holographic bear said.

Tony’s mouth hung like a fish.

                “Robot.”

The reticence of the workshop led the small gnat voice to Tony who looked at Peter. The Pooh-logram giggled and whispered something in Peter’s ear. Peter nodded and walked up to Tony.

Tony looked at the boy and gulped. He had not seen him since Steve brought him (physically). The boy pointed to the schematics above Tony’s head.

                “Help,” he said.

                “Uh….help….”

                Sir, I believe young Peter is offering to assist you.

The voice from Pooh-logram and Tony glanced at Peter who smiled nervously.

Tony meant to send the kid away. And to shut the traitor JARVIS off for the week.

Looking into those hopeful eyes, how could he?

* * *

 

Steve knocked again on Peter’s door. The boy would be up now and waiting for Steve. He shrugged and opened the door. He panicked upon seeing the empty bed. Steve halted and went to check the bathroom.

No Peter.

                “Ah, no,” he said backing out. “JARVIS, scan the tower fo—”

                Master Steve, I believe you should look in the workshop before making any rash decisions.

Steve ran to the shop. Upon entering he halted again.

On the cot where Tony slept sometimes, was Peter lying on Tony’s chest. The two were passed out and clutching each other like a lifeline.

Steve swallowed and fixed the blanket covering them.

He then proceeded to get his sketchbook and draw this moment.

* * *

 

                “I can’t lose him,” Tony said.

It had been a month. A whole month of Peter and Tony knew he was the right kid.

The first time the boy saw his arc reactor he touched it and said, in that wispy voice, “Hurt?”

Tony shook his head and kept his little hand on his hea-arc until he let go. Peter liked it when it was dark and the back-up generators took too long to come back.

Steve had told him when Peter asked if he missed anyone. They both knew what the boy meant.

Now, here they were, snuggled in bed, _The Complete Tales of Winnie the Pooh_ laying on the side table. Peter was facing Tony’s arc and he had the blanket, a plain orange affair, in his arms.

                “We can talk to the aunt,” Steve said. “I…I don’t think she’s going to be fine anytime soon. I remember those widows who really did love their husbands. They never fully recovered. I knew this one kid, Carl Brighton. His mom would stare at the wall for days at a time. When she woke up, to say, she always insisted her husband was coming back a hero. She’d do up the house, buy a new dress, get her hair done. The same for Carl.”

                “And?” Tony said. “Capsicle, continue.”

Steve groaned softly and looked at Peter nestled there.

                “They weren’t well off, like most folks then. She’d spend all their money on the clothes, new sheets, and a big feast. Once she realized what happened…they would have debt. Loads of it. Needless to say, they were homeless after the crash. No one knew where they went or if they were alive,” Steve shuddered. “The woman, May, she’s not coming back. I’ve seen it and the way she talks to Peter…Tony I won’t send him back.”

                “We need to do this nice and legal,” Tony said, sinking into the covers. “Sleep.”

* * *

 

                “I was wondering,” May said.

Steve listened. She had requested to meet him and Peter at the park. Tony came along because he wanted to meet her. May did not ask for Peter to bring his things with him and that calmed Steve’s nerves a bit.

They were watching Peter on the monkey bars. Two months of decent meals and exercise improved him to a healthier glow.

                “I’m too old to take care of Peter,” she continued. “I can’t possibly do it alone. Peter needs more attention. He’s used to Ben and I talking around…”

Steve tuned her out a bit. He nudged Tony to signal that now would be a good time to bring up their proposal.

                “…and he’s so young. Barely remembers his parents.”

She stopped and looked at the two men. Steve inhaled at the deep sorrow in her eyes.

                “They just left him. On our porch the night they disappeared. Arthur, Ben’s brother, had married late and younger, a student of his. Then he worked for that….oh I’m getting off track. I think you two have been wonderful helping a poor woman out, but I simply can’t keep Peter. I’m not well myself and he deserves people who can give him what he needs.”

                “Ma’am,” Steve said. Tony grabbed his hand and squeezed.

                “Would you like to take care of Peter? I can have my lawyer friend rewrite the custody.”

How could they say no?

* * *

 

Some weeks later, Steve and Tony went back to check up on May Parker. They had sent her checks and some pamphlets for programs to help her. It was the least they could do.

The door was unlocked. Cautiously, they entered and found May. She was lying in the kitchen, dead, a bottle of pills on the counter.

88888888

The funeral had many people who loved her. Some Tony even knew from rival companies and respected scientists. Peter dropped his orange blanket in the casket.

* * *

 

                “Come here, spider monkey,” Steve said. He held out the palms of his hands to Peter. “Hit with your right and then your left.”

Peter nodded in his head gear. The boxing gloves were a little big, but easily fixed.

Tony had JARVIS tape the session as he sat outside the ring, drinking his smoothie mix.

Peter punched as Steve directed his form.

Tony looked down at the bedroom design he had for Peter.

Steve thought of building a smaller rocker for Peter to enjoy.

The day was sunny and quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello People,  
> First off, I am new to comics so most, if not all, of my works in these fandoms will be movie based. Sorry if you are a purist, but I will Wikipedia the hell out of stuff the movies get wrong. As for timelines, well it is headcanon: Cap came out in late eighties, met with old friends (Howard Stark, Peggy Carter) thus meeting Tony. Other things happened too, but that is for the story and again, will be heavily reliant on movieverse, Wikipedia, and YouTube videos. Don't read if you don't like it.


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